A Stranger On My Land - A Civil War Romance Read online

  Carrie stirred the soup before dipping out a bowl for her aunt. Thankfully, Adam slept on, but Jay hadn’t returned from fetching another load of wood. She fretted over him. Although it would be fully dark soon, her little brother felt at home on the mountain. It would soon be time to milk the cows, one of Jay’s chores. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t worry, but the fighting on Missionary Ridge had slackened. From inside the cave, she couldn’t hear any cannons and didn’t know if shots were still being fired. Soldiers from either side could return to Lookout Mountain at any time. Then they would be trapped inside during the day unless the soldiers chose another part of the huge mountain to occupy. With her view of Chattanooga and the whole valley, she knew this area to be a probable location.

  Aunt Lavinia usually fell asleep soon after supper. She’d had a long coughing spell a little while ago which exhausted her. It would be best to get some nourishment into her before she slept.

  Carrie heaved a heartfelt sigh as she took the filled wooden bowl into the bedroom. Aunt Lavinia hadn’t always been so bitter. In the days before the war, she’d been the one who took care of the cooking and other chores while Carrie tended the garden and the animals. Papa had taken a job in Chattanooga building locomotive engines after Mama died of pneumonia back in 1857. Everything had changed after that.

  Aunt Lavinia, a childless widow and Papa’s sister, had come to live with them to help raise Jay, then only three. The burden of raising a family had weighed on Papa, and his teasing manner vanished. When whispers of the coming war reached him, he hadn’t been in favor of secession. He hadn’t been in favor of slavery, either, and they’d never owned any. Carrie had been certain he leaned on the side of the North until Confederate soldiers came to their home and insisted he join their army. Carrie had been frightened at the way they held the loaded muskets. The hard look on the leader’s face had only softened when Papa agreed to go with them.

  Soon after that, Aunt Lavinia started losing weight and going to bed with the chickens. Once the doctor told her that she suffered from tuberculosis, all the fight to recover had gone out of her. He recommended bed rest, poultices, and a spoonful of his own personal remedy. To Carrie, it smelled like the wine served at a neighbor’s home, but Aunt Lavinia took it obediently several times a day.

  When Carrie entered the shadowy bedroom, Aunt Lavinia’s eyes were closed, her sewing forgotten at her side. “Aunt Lavinia? I’ve brought soup for you.”

  “Thanks, child.” Her thin face seemed paler than normal, but it could be the dim lighting. “The candle’s burning low. Can you light another?” One of the two candles they kept burning in this room at all times sat on her aunt’s bedside table. It had less than an inch left to the wick.

  “I’ll help you sit up first.” Carrie put the bowl on the table and assisted her aunt to sit with her shoulders against the wooden headboard. “How are you feeling now?”

  “Weak.” Aunt Lavinia rubbed her temples before reaching for the steaming soup. “My head aches. I’ll need some of Dr. Townsend’s elixir after supper.”

  “All right.” Carrie fetched a candle from a box in the back of the room. “We’ve been going through more candles living in this cave, but this supply should see us through the winter.”

  “Even if we must stay here?” Her aunt ate another spoonful of soup.

  “Yes.” Carrie hoped they’d be leaving before long because Aunt Lavinia’s health had declined since they moved. She kept that observation to herself. The cows bellowed from the back room, reminding her of the passing time. Where was Jay?

  “The vibrations have stopped. Is the battle over?”

  Carrie sat on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know. The fighting was over on Missionary Ridge today.”

  Aunt Lavinia gave Carrie a half-filled bowl. “That was good, Carrie. You’re turning into a right good cook.”

  She stared at the contents, chagrined at her aunt’s poor appetite. Always petite like Carrie, Aunt Lavinia had lost even more weight since they fled their home. “Don’t you want any more?”

  “No.” She sank down into the bed and pulled the blankets up to her shoulders. “Them soldiers done took what’s left of my appetite. The way they run us out of Chattanooga when their cannons fired on us—while we sat in church praying for the Confederacy!—was plumb shameful. And now we’ve been run out of our home and into this cave where it’s always cold. It’s all that blamed Lincoln’s fault.”

  With a Union soldier sleeping some forty feet from where she lay, the gray-haired woman’s words jolted her. “I don’t think President Lincoln wanted the war.”

  “He ain’t my president!” Aunt Lavinia’s dark eyes blazed in anger. “Don’t you dare call him that, Carrie Elizabeth! If it weren’t for him, my brother would still have a job in Chattanooga and not be off fighting a war he’s too old for.”

  With her attitude about the Union’s president, she wouldn’t react well to Carrie aiding a wounded Yankee soldier. Carrie tried not to let the anger affect her, but hearing the same complaints time without end made it difficult to maintain a positive outlook. The bitterness that dwelt in this room was like an insidious poison seeping into her soul.

  “When I watched that meteor flash across the sky and break in two before the election, I knew it was a bad sign. And I was right.” Her anger apparently drained the last of her energy. Her words trailed off.

  Carrie remembered that day, too. During one of the political speeches of the 1860 presidential campaign, a meteor streaked across the sky. When it broke into two parts, some people saw it as a sign that the country would split. Aunt Lavinia was one of them. Carrie sighed and stood. “Get some rest now, Aunt Lavinia. I’ll bring the medicine in later.”

  “Thank you, child.” She closed her eyes.

  Jay came in with another bundle of wood as Carrie exited the shadowy chamber. He dropped the load next to the growing stack near the opening of the cave.

  Carrie breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s enough wood for today. Thanks, Jay. What took so long?”

  Adam stirred but didn’t awaken.

  A sheepish look crossed Jay’s face. “I might have sat down to watch the muskets flash on Missionary Ridge. I think the Union won, Carrie. I saw an awful lot of movement in the valley and on top of the ridge. Men wearing blue shouted and cheered. There’s a bunch of them over there.”

  She shivered at the news as if a cold draft had entered with Jay. That news wouldn’t soothe her aunt’s mood at all. “Since you don’t know for certain who won, let’s not mention it to Aunt Lavinia. She won’t like it.”

  Jay stared down at Adam. “Yeah, she hates Yankees.” The tall man lay very still on his pallet as Jay’s green eyes looked up at her trustfully. “Do we hate Yankees, too, Carrie?”

  • CHAPTER FOUR •

  Adam waited tensely for Carrie’s answer. If she hated him, he’d best seize the first opportunity to escape.

  “The Bible says not to hate people, Jay. We hate the war.”

  Her voice sounded further away, so he peeked through slit eyes. She had turned to the table against the wall. He couldn’t see what she was doing or her expression.

  “I like Adam.” The little boy’s honesty felt refreshing.

  He closed his eyes tightly as booted footsteps approached.

  “He’s heavy, though.”

  Adam clamped his mouth shut to suppress a laugh. Jay was a good kid.

  “Wash up. We’ll eat and then wake up Adam. He’ll need nourishment to get better.”

  After sounds of splashing water from the other side of the room ended, brother and sister sat around the fire. Carrie asked the blessing, including a prayer for her papa off fighting the war with General Lee in Virginia, her aunt’s health, and for Adam. The simple heartfelt prayer moved him. He decided to continue pretending to sleep to learn more about his host family. Another peek showed the siblings faced the cave entrance, carefully covered with brush.

  “Be careful not to wake Aunt Lav
inia when you go through to milk the cows. She’s not feeling well.”

  Blond hair fell across Jay’s forehead as he bent over the bowl. “She’s worse. Ain’t she?” He looked at his sister with fear in his eyes.

  Carrie swallowed hard. “I’m not a doctor. She hasn’t been seen by Dr. Townsend since everybody cleared out. It’s hard to tell.”

  “There’s still plenty of her medicine, right?”

  She put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Four more bottles. He gave us all he had before leaving. She’ll be fine until he returns to town.”

  Jay’s brow furrowed in thought. “But Carrie, if the Union army stays in Chattanooga, will the doctor come back?”

  Her face turned pale. “I hadn’t thought of that. We’ll just pray people return home before the medicine runs out.” She sighed. “It’s time for our lives to get back to normal.”

  He put his bowl on the ground in front of him. “What happens to us if Papa doesn’t come back and Aunt Lavinia dies?”

  Carrie’s eyes glistened with tears for just a moment before she jumped up to retrieve the water bucket and dipper. She returned to her place in front of the fire before answering. “We’ll pray that neither of those things happens.”

  “But we prayed the war wouldn’t start either, and it did. We prayed Papa wouldn’t have to choose a side to fight on, and he did. We prayed that Union soldiers would stay away from our mountain.” He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned his face on his hands. “I reckon we’re not too good at praying.”

  Carrie scooted over and put her arm around him. “Mama used to say that sometimes God says no to something we want really bad. She said that’s the hardest time to trust Him, but it matters most then. When times get hard, trust God harder.”

  “Is He still with us? Even in this cave?” the boy’s green eyes shone with hope and trust.

  “Especially in this cave.” A couple of cows bellowed from further inside the cave. “Guess we’d better get to our evening chores. I’ll wake up Adam in a few minutes.”

  Jay left the room. Carrie took their dishes to a long table that lined the rocky wall. Adam’s heart ached as her shoulders shook silently, glad for the glimpse of what the past couple of years had been for them. Their mother must have been quite a woman to have instilled such faith in them. His faith had taken a beating after losing too many comrades, good men who deserved to live and return to their families. Perhaps he should have fought harder to trust God even when it hurt.

  If he couldn’t help her, at least he could distract her. Careful not to dislodge his throbbing arm, he moved his legs so that his shoes scraped against the rough stone.

  Her body stilled instantly. “I’ll be right there.”

  Retrieving a handkerchief from the pocket of her plain brown dress, she swiped at her cheeks before turning around. “You must be hungry.”

  Since his last meal had been before noon yesterday, the understatement coaxed a reluctant smile. “Yes, Ma’am.”

  She brought a steaming bowl of soup over and knelt beside him. “Can you sit up to eat?”

  He tried to push himself upright with his good arm, but couldn’t manage it. “Sorry. Guess I’m weak as a baby right now.” He gestured to his wounded arm with a nod. “Much obliged for the bandages.”

  “My pleasure.” She rolled up a blanket and placed it under his pillow to prop up his head. “Just rest and regain your strength. I’ll feed you.” She gave him a bite of delicious soup. “I don’t know anything about removing bullets. There are two wounds. Either you’ve got two bullets in your arm or it went all the way through.”

  He grinned. “I got hit early in the day. I couldn’t reload as quickly but could still fire my weapon. The second bullet came after dark. It was my fault. I should have been more alert to the sound of their pickets approaching.” Her answering smile made his heart skip a beat. She sure was pretty. “And you’ve already done plenty for me.”

  The wounded arm didn’t affect his appetite. He ate every last bite.

  “There’s a little more if you want it.”

  Soldiers learned early not to turn down home-cooked food. “I’d be much obliged.”

  “My pleasure.” His appetite seemed to please her for a smile lit her face as she returned to his side with a steaming bowl of soup.

  “It’s very tasty. I haven’t had soup this good since I left home.” He concentrated on eating the second helping, but it became an effort. “Thank you kindly for the meal.” To his frustration, weakness overcame him. Since when had eating become a chore?

  “You rest now.” She put a cool hand on his burning forehead. “I have some powders for that fever. Don’t fall asleep until I fetch them.”

  “I’ll try.”

  She hurried away. Despite his best efforts, his eyelids closed in sleep.

  For the next three days, all Adam did was eat and sleep. He fed himself with his left hand unless the meal consisted of soup. Feeding himself soup with his left hand defeated him so far. He took care of any personal needs, striving for as much independence as possible. The fever continued, causing Carrie to wonder if he’d caught pneumonia in the rain. It could also be the bullets in his arm. It seemed pointless to probe the arm searching for them when she could do nothing to remove them.

  After searching the trunk for Dover’s powder to lower his fever, she realized the medicine had been left back in the cabin. As she prepared a poultice for her aunt to ease her cough, she wondered if a poultice would help Adam’s arm. Deciding it couldn’t hurt, she made a poultice with flaxseed meal and applied it to the wounds. The muscles in his face relaxed as it brought relief, prompting her to apply poultices two or three times daily.

  She couldn’t deny that Adam was growing on her. Whenever she changed his bandages or applied a poultice, he always had a kind word or a teasing comment for her. Though she had plenty to do, waiting on him became a pleasure. She couldn’t help liking him.

  After Jay saw Union soldiers in Chattanooga the day after the battle, Carrie wouldn’t allow him outside. The little boy remained restless, cooped up inside the cave. For that matter, Star didn’t handle the forced inactivity any better. The family pet took a shine to Adam and had been sleeping on the floor beside him. When awake, Adam talked to Jay like an older brother. He made a fuss over Jay’s dog, which could account for Star’s strong liking for the stranger.

  Carrie had listened to a conversation between Adam and Jay yesterday that revealed more of the soldier’s background.

  After finding out that Adam lived on a farm a few miles outside of Lima, Ohio, Jay had asked about his family.

  Though his face had been flushed with fever, Adam propped himself up against the wall to answer Jay’s questions.

  “My father died seven years ago, about a month after my fifteenth birthday.” Sadness shadowed his blue eyes. “I always knew I’d take over the farm one day, but I thought I’d be married by then.” He met Carrie’s gaze as she scrubbed mud from his uniform. “Since I was the oldest, a lot of responsibility fell on me. I wasn’t ready for it. I just wanted my father back.”

  Jay bowed his head. “My ma died when I was three. I can’t hardly remember her.”

  Star licked his hand.

  Adam’s eyes filled with compassion as he placed a hand on Jay’s shoulder. “I sure am sorry to hear that. She sounds like a wonderful lady.”

  Jay looked up at him. “That’s when Aunt Lavinia came to live with us. She took care of me and Carrie while Pa worked.”

  Adam’s gaze went from Jay to Carrie. “So you don’t have any other brothers or sisters?”

  “No. Just Carrie.” Jay stroked Star’s head. “Aunt Lavinia was nice back then.”

  Appalled that her brother could say such a thing to someone outside the family, Carrie felt she had to explain. “She doesn’t feel well, Jay. Lots of folks get cranky when they’re sick. We’ve talked about this. Remember?”

  He nodded. “It gets harder to remember when I can’t g
o outside and play.”

  Carrie couldn’t help sympathizing. Nine-year-olds needed to run, climb trees, and explore. He couldn’t do those things with the war on their doorstep. Hoping to distract him, she decided to discover more about the soldier who somehow tugged at her heart with his refusal to complain of his pain. “So you’re the oldest in your family, Adam?”

  “I have three sisters and a brother. My brother, Allen, is the youngest.”

  Jay perked up. “How old is he?”

  “Allen is fifteen.” Adam frowned. “He’s running the farm now with my sisters. I made him promise not to join the army until he’s at least sixteen.”

  “When’s his birthday?”

  Adam tried to smile. “Next September. Maybe this will all be over by then.”

  “Amen.” Carrie wasn’t aware she spoke aloud until she felt Adam’s intense blue gaze. “We’ve had our fill of war.”

  “Me, too.” Adam’s expression held compassion and sorrow.

  All the fight went out of her at his quiet admission. He didn’t want this war any more than she did. It seemed a strange conversation to hold with a soldier who fought on the opposite side as her father. Carrie didn’t know what to say, but felt any lingering animosity toward him slip away. She began to see him with different eyes, as someone she wanted to get to know.

  “Our pa’s fighting in Virginia.” Jay’s troubled look tore at Carrie’s heart.

  “Is he? Your pa must be a very brave man.”

  A look of pride brought a smile to Jay’s face. “He is. He’s not always fighting though. He mostly works on train engines and the railroads. Is that brave too?”

  Adam grinned. “You better believe it. That’s an important job.”

  “Yeah, that’s what Carrie says.”

  The satisfied look on her brother’s face comforted Carrie.

  “Your big sister is pretty smart.” Adam ruffled Jay’s blond hair. “You should listen to her.”

  It relieved Carrie when Adam turned the conversation away from the war. When Adam rubbed his forehead for the second time with his good hand, she wished she hadn’t forgotten the headache powders at the cabin.